


Watcher

by RibsGrowBack



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RibsGrowBack/pseuds/RibsGrowBack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Equius notices how very tired his leader looks. <br/>(Kink meme request for Karkat/Equius fluff. Diabetes warning: this shit'll rot your teeth.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watcher

_It would always make everyone uncomfortable whenever he would just stand there. And watch._  
  
Ten hours and twenty-five minutes. Ten hours and twenty-five minutes on an asteroid on the edge of the universe. The clock is ticking down constantly, every moment feels rushed and charged if it's not being filled with activity, so the twelve trolls make themselves busy as often as possible.  
  
They all have different ways of coping with the ticking timer. Karkat yells and blusters and fusses even more often than usual. Sollux immerses himself in a tangle of wires and CPUs and strings and strings of code. Nepeta and Terezi roleplay, Tavros plays fiduspawn and, later, attempts to re-learn how to use the stairs. Eridan broods, Vriska hovers, Kanaya meddles, Feferi sleeps. Aradia stares into space. Gamzee perfects his horn pile. You know all of this, because you watch.  
  
Karkat yells at you for just _watching_ every few minutes as he makes his rounds of the lab. He's been restlessly pacing whenever he's not giving the John human merry hell, and, exactly on time, he storms over to where you are straddling a computer chair backwards, staring at him over the tops of your glasses and waiting for the rant to end.  
  
"So stop fucking _staring_ at everyone, shitsponge! It's bad for morale and you're not being useful at _all_. Go troll the humans some more or something! Just stop being fucking creepy!"  
  
Karkat does not have the face of a leader. He does not have the carriage of a leader. He is short and blustery and slouches constantly. He's barely muscled, his arms are about the circumference of your wrists, and his horns are blunt and barely poke out of his tangled hair. He has blunt nubby teeth and a snub button nose and traces of wriggler-fat. But he can yell like nobody else on Alternia. (That expression has lost a great deal of its magnitude, as the only Alternians left in the universe are on this very asteroid, but it's still an accomplishment.)  
  
"My apologies, Vantas. I will engage myself in a less disreputable pastime immediately."  
  
"And don't fucking go to sleep!"  
  
Exhaustion is written in every line of Karkat's body. Bags hang under his eyes, his shoulders slump. His eyes flutter shut if he stays still for too long, so he's always moving. You find yourself wanting to stop his shuffle-footed pacing and tuck him into a pile. You mentally admonish yourself for having such a thought about a lowblood--is he even a lowblood? You don't even know what color he bleeds. Would a highblood cover his color so? Such thoughts give you a headache.  
  
"I have no desire to go to sleep at the moment. You, however, sh001d probably rest."  
  
"Don't tell me what to fucking do, you snooty douche! I'm not your moirail!"  
  
"You're a member of my team and my leader. Forgive me for being concerned about your health."  
  
"Yeah, well I'm ordering you to not be concerned about me anymore!" he blusters. "And I'm ordering you not to get off on that order," he snarls as an afterthought.  
  
"Well, _someone_ should be concerned for you," you huff, crossing your arms. Sweat pricks at your brow, and you uncaptchalogue a towel and wipe it away. His perpetual scowl softens for half a second.  
  
"Oh. Well. Thanks, I guess." He shifts awkwardly from foot to foot, but still looks you straight in the eye. Perhaps he does carry himself as a leader after all.  
  
You're not sure why you choose to open your mouth again. You're not sure why you suggest that he come to the roof with you, where it is quiet and still and he can rest. You know he hates to leave the lab, because you've watched. You know that he rarely ever left his hive back home, that he's frightened of too much space. You don't even like him, this rogue-blooded tactical midget with a shorter fuse than even you. But you are restless and so his he and the timer is still ticking and you find yourself asking anyways.  
  
You're even more surprised when he accepts.

  
His nubby edges soften even more. He seems, suddenly, quite small. He half-smiles, shrugs, says, "Why the fuck not!?" and you find yourself climbing countless stairs with him and wondering how this happened. For a second, you worry that you will have nothing to talk about with him. But you quickly remember that this is Karkat Vantas you are dealing with--he could talk to an empty room (and often has) and never run out of steam. You find yourself laughing as he storms on and on about his future self, and though his scowl doesn't lighten, his eyes are smiling with you. He has a rapier wit, hiding under layers of crankiness and obscene metaphors. Eventually, you reach the roof and--miracle of the highblood's miracles--you're actually enjoying yourself. Perhaps Nepeta is right, and Karkat is, in fact, rather nice if you give him the chance.  
  
He flops to the ground, stretches out. You lie down next to him and stare into the empty sky. He points, vaguely, saying, "That's where Prospit used to be." It's a surprisingly plain statement, coming from him.  
  
"What was it like?"  
  
"I don't know. It... it blew up too fast for me to tell."  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry."  
  
He shrugs. "Not like I can miss what I've never seen. What's Derse like?"  
  
"It's cold. And dark. I haven't been awake there for very long, but Nepeta has. She has shown me around a bit, and I suppose it has a certain appeal." He nods.  
  
"You're not so bad, for a sweaty douchebag," he says after a while. He punctuates the statement with a yawn so big and sleepy that you feel tired just looking at him.  
  
"You are tolerable yourself, for a lowblood with a Troll Napoleon complex," you smirk, and add, "You should rest."  
  
"I can't sleep. You don't know what's out there now, with Prospit gone."  
  
"You are clearly exhausted."  
  
"You are clearly and idiot." It's a ridiculously mundane insult for him. He must be more tired than you had previously thought.  
  
You uncaptchalogue a pile of clean towels, and they flop to the metal roof gently. "Here. It's almost as good as a recuperacoon, and _yes,_ they are clean. I'll watch over you. You will sleep."  
  
He gives you an appraising look, then the corner of his mouth quirks up. "Was that an order?"  
  
You grin back at him. "It was most _assuredly_ an order and you will sleep this instant."  
  
He sighs, and flops onto the towel pile. You are sitting a few feet away, planning to keep vigil as he rests, and you watch him fighting to keep his eyes open even now. "Do you have to just sit there and _watch?_ " he asks. You shrug.  
  
"Gog, just get in here," Karkat sighs, and scoots over slightly, patting a place next to him. "The towels should soak up your obscene amounts of sweat so I'm not worried about drowning."  
  
You sit next to him, hyperaware of the fact that your legs hang off the edge of the pile and that if you bump him with an errant elbow he will probably bruise and you find yourself tensing up and starting to sweat, but Karkat just grunts and snuggles up to you. You freeze, staring at him, and he growls, "Just try not to crush me with your obscenely fucking strong power-cuddles, okay?"  
  
You know a lot about Karkat Vantas from watching him. You know the way he walks and the way he stands, you know the set of his shoulders when he is stressed, you know how his face looks when he learns that everyone he knows is doomed. You know that he can type faster than he can talk, that his voice has no volume control and certainly no mute button, that he is infuriating, tempermental, insulting, and insolent. But you did not know that Karkat Vantas is a cuddler.

  
You gently, gently, enfold him in your arms. You try not to move, or breathe, or do anything, but he tells you to relax, he won't break. His eyes are fluttering shut, but Karkat Vantas does not give in easily to sleep. Before he can succumb, he yawns again, hugely, and tells you something that he'd later deny forever. "Hey, Equius? Thanks for this. I... After Prospit got destroyed, I've been completely fucking terrified of going to sleep on my own. So.. thanks." He stretches up and presses a chaste kiss against your lips, and you're too surprised to respond. He pulls back after a second, waiting for you to react. _He's a lowblood, he practically exhales profanities, this is lewd, so depraved_ , you think frantically. But you find yourself leaning forward and kissing him again, softly, and you feel him exhale against your lips. He snuggles up against your chest, and finally, Karkat sleeps.  
  
The timer is still ticking. The lab is still buzzing with nervous energy. Everyone is still trying to cope. Sollux is still immersing himself in a tangle of wires and CPUs and strings and strings of code. Nepeta and Terezi are still roleplaying, Tavros navigating the stairs. Eridan is still brooding, Vriska is still hovering, Kanaya is still meddling, Feferi is still sleeping. Aradia stares interminably into space. Gamzee is still perfecting his horn pile.  
  
But Karkat Vantas is sleeping, his tense frame relaxed in your arms. You know this, because you watch. And you will watch over him until he wakes, and then, perhaps, you will kiss him again.


End file.
